


you can't bottle up the ocean

by glitchblue



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: Childhood Trauma, F/F, Original Character(s), POV First Person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19800619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitchblue/pseuds/glitchblue
Summary: Michiru reflects on her past experiences as a guarded young lesbian just trying to navigate through life. Two-shot.





	you can't bottle up the ocean

I've heard what people say about me.

“Kaioh Michiru is a bright, beautiful young lady with a successful future ahead of her...but her aloof attitude could make things harder for her”. Aloof? How amusing. It's everyone else who refuses to be approachable to me.

When I was a child, I was given validation for my solitary ways. Mother said I was just the daydreamer type. I preferred the company of books, dolls and imaginary friends than anyone real. And for the most part, it was true. I was enamoured by the world around me, not the people who lived in it. There was a time in primary school when my parents had the police out searching for me...they thought I had drowned at a nearby lake. But I was in that lake the whole time – swimming, exploring, admiring the water around me. For five hours. Sure, I put myself in certain danger – what if someone had kidnapped me? What if I had drowned? Swam too far? But in my gut I knew I wasn't in harms way. And my intuition is rarely wrong.

I did have one close friend. Junko. She was so feminine, yet enjoyed boyish things like bugs and basketball. I loved the juxtaposition. I've always been enamoured by girls who break the rules, skid the line between what is considered appropriate for us and what is not. I'm also a girl who breaks the rules, but I'm more subtle. Perhaps looking the part of a classic beauty (the types that high school boys want to deflower first, unfortunately) makes my romantic pursuits all the more rebellious. I'm not out to prove anything, though. I'm just existing, trying to be as true to myself as my personality will allow.

I was friends with Junko from our childhood days until the final year of primary. I scared her away. I can't help how I feel. I can't change who I'm enamoured with in an instant. I confessed to her, and she left me to the wolves. She showed me her true feelings. I can't stand it when people hate those who don't conform...It was hard for me to grapple with as an eleven year old. The world I live in revolves around the uniformity of a population. Being outside of that circle is a decision some of us have to make in order to go on living. I realized that sooner than others.

There was a time soon after that my collection of novels and manga – books I had been purchasing since I was young – was destroyed by my father in a fire. All of my books were about girl's love...stories like _Shiroi Heya no Futari_ and _Oniisama e..._ These were the things I had to turn to when I was lonely, or was in doubt of my romantic interests. Mother, being the wealthy socialite she was, heard wind of Junko's disgust towards my confession through her great many connections. I think Father wanted to scare me out of the “phase”. In my stories, the couples would end eventually. Sometimes the girls would “grow up” after graduation, finding a husband and accepting the responsibilities of housewives. Other times, the girls would be heartbroken and their lover would be doomed to death. I did not want to accept either of these outcomes. They couldn't be the only choices I had. Father wanted to scare me into believing that fiction was fact, and my love for Junko was frivolous. I wish I had the confidence I do today back then – I could have put the fire out when it was but an ember.

Entering middle school away from my primary classmates was an obvious sign. My parents wanted me to start over fresh as a mysterious transfer student type. Become social, find men interesting. But I couldn't do either of these things. I need to be true to myself, or else what point is there in life for me? Dozens of boys gave me love letters – they all wanted to be the first one to melt the ice princess. Some of their letters said those words exactly. I threw them all away. Luckily, I had something my parents wanted more than future grandchildren.

My parents, although they were constantly irritated with my lack of interest, were so pleased with the attention I received as an artist and violinist. I suppose they could overlook “Kaioh Michiru, disappointing lesbian” if it meant getting “Kaioh Michiru, gifted prodigy” as well. My parents don't care for much aside from status, and the status they were given due to my talents was second to none. That's why, when Mother found photographs of a certain handsome female racer under my pillow, she turned a blind eye.

They've still never actually met Haruka, though.


End file.
